


part of you pours out of me.

by redhoods



Series: widofjord week 2019. [6]
Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Blood Pacts, Canon-Typical Violence, Hopeful Ending, M/M, Pre-Relationship, Resurrection, Temporary Character Death, Widofjord Week
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-19
Updated: 2019-06-19
Packaged: 2020-05-14 12:22:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,926
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19273213
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/redhoods/pseuds/redhoods
Summary: His palm starts throbbing when they’re moving to the next stretch of hallway and before they even make it to the next doors, it’s on fire. He hisses and it echoes in the hallway, drawing Jester and Beau’s attention.He tips his hand, flexes his fingers, realizing it’s the scar across his palm that’s causing him so much pain.“You alright, man?” Beau asks, expression unreadable with her goggles still on.The burning turns to red hot searing pain, “Caleb,” is all he manages to croak, throat suddenly very dry. He doesn’t wait, turning and rushing as fast as he can back the way they came.





	part of you pours out of me.

**Author's Note:**

> uuuuuuuhhhhh if you don’t think case of you by joni mitchell is the perfect blood pact song then you are wrong.
> 
> might do some follow up of this, might not. we’ll see. left it purposefully vague and ambiguous about the blood magic thing, because so far we haven’t seen any consequences canon wise.
> 
> for widofjord week day 3 - blood pacts.

“We should split up,” Nott says, squinting down each of the paths at the three way split they’ve found themselves at.

Beau snorts derisive but hardly in a position to be taken seriously with her goggles strapped down over her eyes, “Because splitting up has always gone so well for this party.”

“I do not think any of us wish to be in this place any longer than necessary,” Caleb says, voice hushed, his globules of light floating close to his person, casting him in a variety of strange shadows as they orbit around him, “The sooner we explore, the sooner we can go back.”

Jester is rocking on her heels, shield held tight to her chest, “I think they’re right, Beau,” she whispers, “It’s creepy in this place.”

Fjord is already nodding, fingers tight around the hilt of the falchion. The manor they’ve found themselves in is very unsettling, dead quiet and cold. It strangely reminds him of navigating Dashilla’s layer, the cold brushes against the back of his neck.

“We can just give a shout if something should go amiss,” Caduceus says, a pillar of calm, even washed in the dull pink light from his crystal. He looks like a eery spector, though Fjord isn’t going to be the one to point it out.

“Caleb and I will go this way!” Nott declares, already hauling the wizard off down the left path.

Fjord watches them disappear around a corner before looking to the rest of the group.

“Lets go then!” Jester chirps, suddenly cheerful, and Fjord finds himself being hauled down the hallway that continues straight ahead of them, Jester’s hand clamped around his and Beau’s wrists. There’s no point in struggling, he doesn’t stand a chance at breaking out of her hold. He tosses a glance back to see Yasha and Caduceus moving calmly off to the third hallway.

The hallway doesn’t veer off or even go on for much longer before it dumps them into what seems to be a formal dining room. Fjord feels no qualms with himself as he tucks close to Beau and Jester, shadowing them around the large table as they investigate all the nooks and crannies and a large china cabinet.

He doesn’t mention out loud how he realizes that neither of them pockets a single thing.

The manor is unsettling all of them clearly.

It’s when they move around the table to the next set of doors leading out of the dining room that his palm starts itching. He absently scrapes his claws over the spot, but doesn’t pay it much more mind as he follows Jester and Beau into a large open kitchen.

Darkness is still pervasive and now carries the scent of rot that has Fjord pressing his knuckles to his nose to try and stifle the smell. They still cluster together as they investigate the kitchen. There’s a thick layer of dust over everything, fruit rotting in a bowl on one of the stretches of counter space.

“I really don’t like this place,” Jester says quietly and Fjord can see the way she’s got her fingers tangled with Beau’s, holding on tight.

His palm starts throbbing when they’re moving to the next stretch of hallway and before they even make it to the next doors, it’s on fire. He hisses and it echoes in the hallway, drawing Jester and Beau’s attention.

He tips his hand, flexes his fingers, realizing it’s the scar across his palm that’s causing him so much pain.

“You alright, man?” Beau asks, expression unreadable with her goggles still on.

The burning turns to red hot searing pain, “Caleb,” is all he manages to croak, throat suddenly very dry. He doesn’t wait, turning and rushing as fast as he can back the way they came.

Jester and Beau call after him but he doesn’t slow.

He makes it back to the fork in the hallways, already turning. The pain is excruciating now and his lungs are burning with how fast he’s forcing himself forwards. This hallway seems to turn in on itself, turning and turning, and he barely even recognizes that it’s magic causing this until suddenly, he’s dumped into a massive study.

There’s strangely not a lot happening in front of him, but even the little bit of what’s happening is too much.

Nott is screeching to one side, crossbow held aloft in front of her, bolt zipping through the air to sink into the creature. The creature that is holding Caleb off the ground by his throat, the wizard scrabbling at its hand, feet kicking out towards the body. 

Caleb can’t cast if he can’t talk.

Fjord throws out a hand, spell building and releasing in the direction of the creature, trying to stop it, to halt it, to do anything.

The spell doesn’t take, the magic fizzling out in front of him and Fjord looks over his shoulder, desperate for some sort of help coming. 

Neither Beau nor Jester are behind him.

“Nott!” He yells.

“I’m trying!” She fires a bolt, then another, both of them sinking into the shambling mess of a creature that simply roars in response, Caleb being jerked around in its grip. “Get him out of there, Fjord!”

His palm burns and his throat burns acrid, “I can’t! Not unless it lets him go!” He releases some of his eldritch energy, watching one impact and the other slam into a bookshelf next to the creature. Caleb’s face is turning startling shades and Fjord edges around, closer to the side the creature has Caleb on.

He realizes that the creature doesn’t seem to have eyes, but that doesn’t stop it from holding Caleb in his direction, shaking Caleb like a rag doll. Like a taunt.

There’s a sickening crunch that causes Fjord’s stomach to roll and he’s not sure if it’s him or Nott or both of them that shout when the creature releases Caleb and the wizard simply drops to the ground.

“Get him!” Nott screeches suddenly and Fjord startles and makes a dive for Caleb, getting his free fist in Caleb’s coat before he casts, thunder echoing in the chamber as Fjord releases the spell. He aims for the door, trying to put as much distance as he can.

When the magic dissipates, he and Caleb are still in the room though, inside the doorway.

“You’re supposed to be getting him out of here!”

“I tried!” He yells and turns over his shoulder to fire off more eldritch energy at the creature. When he tries to leave the room, it’s like an invisible barrier has sprung up in the frame, preventing him from crossing the threshold. “There’s something in the way!”

Nott lets out another scream, scrambling over to him so the two of them are a barrier in front of Caleb as she fires off from her crossbow.

The creature lets out a roar that rattles the books on the shelves and bounds in their direction.

“Summon one of your demon friends!” Nott shrieks, almost ducked behind his legs.

“I can’t,” he replies, quiet, helpless, tapped for most of his magic. He charges forward instead, falchion twisting in his grip as he yells back at it, swinging out with his blade.

Something happens from there, something that Fjord can’t put his finger on, can’t explain. Not in that moment when his vision is full of red and his pain from his palm has spread up his entire arm like wildfire. The creature swings for him again and again and again, none of its hits landing while Fjord slices through it.

He’s distantly aware of the crossbow bolts sinking into the rotting flesh, but it’s far away.

The creature knocks him away, his boots skidding him across the ground back towards where Nott and Caleb are, so he backs off, starting to call the eldritch energy to his palms.

“What the fuck was that, Fjord!” Nott yells, voice gone impossibly shriller with her panic.

He can’t find any words, not a single one, but all he can think about is how useful one of Caleb’s massive fireballs would be as he releases his first blast.

The energy that leaves his hand isn’t green or purple or any combination of the two, but red. It spirals from his hand and then explodes in a massive burst of fire swirling around the creature. The creature roars in pain until the sound fades and lightens and eventually turns into nothing but the sounds of burning.

Fjord stares down at his palms, the scar across his hand that’s causing pain all through one side of his body now.

“What the fuck,” Nott says, this time quiet and hoarse and when Fjord looks, she’s dropped her crossbow and has Caleb’s head cradled in her lap.

“I really don’t know,” Fjord says and steps away, towards the door. Whatever barrier had sprung up is gone now and he could cry in relief, “Come on, lets see if we can get back,” he croaks out.

He steps back and carefully doesn’t look her in the face as he kneels down and scoops Caleb up in his arms.

They’re both quiet as they leave the room, stepping back into the strangely winding hallway.

It seems to last forever.

“Jester and Caduceus still have diamonds, right?” Nott asks. They both pretend she’s not sniffling.

Fjord swallows and each step is becoming more and more painful as the pain spreads, radiating from his palm across his entire body, “S’far as I know,” he rumbles quietly.

She squints at him, eyes bright and luminous in the dark corridors, “Are we gonna talk about that?” She hasn’t pulled out her flask and Fjord isn’t sure what to say about that anymore than he knows how to answer any questions she might have. “You’ve never... that was Caleb’s magic.” 

They walk more and Fjord is having to fight through the fire burning through his veins to keep going, to keep hold of Caleb.

He’ll hit his knees before he drops Caleb though.

“Fjord!”

“Never thought I’d be glad to hear her yelling,” Nott grumbles and Fjord snorts, before she raises her voice and shouts, “Beau!”

Suddenly, they’re back at the fork.

“Where the fuck have you guys been?” Beau demands, her goggles on top of her head. Her staff is glowing a bright white in the dark hallway. 

Fjord steps further into the light as Jester comes around Beau’s side, “We have to get out of here.”

There’s a very long silence as everyone stares.

“Is he - he’s not -” Beau’s jaw sets and Fjord just nods once.

“Okay, Mr. Fjord is right, we need to leave this place now,” Caduceus says, calm and collected, but Fjord can see his hand trembling just a little around his staff.

Yasha approaches him quietly, eyes on Caleb, “Fjord,” she says quietly. He knows what’s coming, he does, and it takes effort not to bare his teeth at her. She touches his arm gently, “I’ll be careful,” is all she says and he swallows thickly and nods.

He can’t carry Caleb that far, not when most of his body is lit up with pain, and even if he wasn’t, he doesn’t have that kind of physical strength.

She’s very careful when she takes Caleb from him, cradling the wizard against her chest, “He’ll be okay,” she adds, voice hushed, before she steps away and turns in the direction of the way out, following Caduceus.

Beau bumps into his side and Fjord hisses in a quiet breath before he can stop himself, drawing her attention and Jester’s.

“Fjord! You didn’t say you were hurt,” Jester hisses at him, coming closer, one hand already on her symbol of the Traveler. She touches his arm and the burn intensifies, even as she releases her spell. The pain stays and she frowns a little, eyes on his face, “That didn’t help any it, did it?” She asks, looking very young and very sad.

“It helped,” he says quietly, which is only a partial lie, “I don’t think everything I’m feeling is physical right now, Jes.”

She glances over her shoulder, towards Yasha, and nods slowly.

“We need to go,” Nott says and Fjord watches her take Jester’s hand, the two of them continuing down the hall.

Beau is careful not to touch him, but he notices she doesn’t stray far from his side, “What the fuck happened?” She asks, quiet, but furious.

He curls his fists, claws biting in his palms, “I truly don’t know.”

Out of the manor, the darkness is less oppressive, nighttime darkness instead of whatever magic was at play in the manor. The city unfolds before them and they form a loose bubble around Yasha, shielding her from view of anyone whose path they might cross. Jester takes off her cloak and drapes it over Caleb carefully, then scoops up Nott, who lets herself be carried.

No one says anything as they walk.

\---------

When they reach the house, Fjord unlocks the door with trembling hands. The pain is pervasive now, near debilitating and the chiming of the pipes on the other side of the door cause him to jerk so hard, he knocks into Beau. She doesn’t even gripe about it, just nudges him forward into the entryway. 

“Where?” Yasha asks quietly.

“We’ll need space,” Jester says and leads the way to the dining room, Nott scrambling down from her arms. She doesn’t hesitate for a moment, sweeping everything off the table with a swipe of her hand. Plates and silverware and cups clatter to the floor and none of them react.

“Wait!” Nott tears out of the room and Fjord leans against one of the walls and sinks to the floor, knees up towards his chest.

Nott returns with a pillow and a blanket, both of which she throws over the table, “There.”

Yasha nods and carefully lays Caleb down on the table, his head on the pillow. She turns to Jester and Caduceus, “What do you need?”

The clerics glance at each other, seemingly having a silent conversation.

“I’m going to make tea,” Caduceus says finally, “The ritual will take some time.”

Jester’s smile is forced, watery, “Candles would be nice, lots of them,” she says, digging through her backpack, “And anything you could think of that Caleb might like?”

“What?” Beau is the one to ask, standing vigil near Caleb’s head, half leaning on her staff which suddenly stops glowing.

Caduceus taps his staff on the floor and the torches around the room flare brightly to life, “Sometimes you have to... convince souls to return, persuade them to come back to us. This will be the same with Caleb, if he wishes to come back.”

Nott has climbed up onto the table, her hand wrapped around Caleb’s, “You mean he might not...”

“It is his choice,” Caduceus says quietly and it settles over all of them.

“I can help with tea,” it’s Yeza and Fjord hadn’t even noticed him join them. Caduceus nods and the two of them disappear through the door into the kitchen.

“Ah ha!” Jester lets her bag drop to the floor, a large diamond in her palm. She goes to the table, actually lifting herself to sit up on the edge of it near Nott. “You owe me a very large diamond, Caleb,” she says, though her usual notes of mischief are gone and she plays the diamond in the middle of Caleb’s chest.

“Jester,” Fjord croaks out, thumb pressed against the scar on his palm, “How long does this take?”

Jester’s eyebrows draw together, he can see it where he’s slumped down. She’s brushing Caleb’s hair back from his face, gently tracing the planes of his face with her fingers, “It takes a while. I’m not really sure, I’ve never had to do this. It’s a lot of magic.”

Nott is watching him now, he can tell even though he doesn’t look to meet her gaze, “Fjord, we have to talk about what happened,” she says, very quiet and very serious.

“What did happen?” Beau asks and Fjord had somehow forgotten she was there, with how quiet and still she had become.

Fjord doesn’t know what to say, so he says nothing.

“How did you know Caleb was in trouble?” Jester asks quietly, “You said his name and just... ran. Even Beau couldn’t keep up with you.”

He tips his head back against the wall, eyes closing, because he doesn't want to see their reactions when he holds up his hand, palm out, “It started burning and I just... felt like something was wrong.”

“Oh,” Beau is the first one to respond, “We never talked about that shit, did we?”

“Why is it acting up now?” Nott asks, “You idiots did that ages ago and Caleb’s been hurt plenty of times since then.”

Fjord shrugs.

“What happened though? How did -”

“There was some creature in this study we found,” Nott explains and it’s the part of the story Fjord hasn’t heard yet either, “I touched a book and it... showed up? I don’t know where it came from, I didn’t see,” she sniffs hard, “It attacked Caleb, scooped him up like he was a rag doll.”

“Nott -”

Nott keeps going before Jester can say anything, “I kept shooting it and then Fjord showed up and... it...” she takes a breath and no one tries to interrupt her. “It killed him and Fjord... I’ve never seen him like that.”

He opens his eyes and she’s staring him down.

“He started slicing into the thing and I don’t think it hit him once.”

He swallows, “It didn’t. Not until it shoved me away.”

Beau is looking at him as well now, “Seriously? You’re not exactly... fast,” she says, but he’s pretty sure that’s not what she meant to say, so he shrugs at her.

“That’s not the craziest part,” Nott says, barreling onward with her story.

“There’s more?” Jester asks and she’s got her little bottle of perfume oil out and is gently dabbing some against Caleb’s neck. Fjord doesn’t know enough about religion or rituals to know if this is part of it or if this is special to Jester and her Traveler. 

“I fireballed it.”

Everyone is staring at him now and Fjord doesn’t know where to look, so he stares at Caleb’s profile, slack like he’s sleeping.

“I’m sorry, it sounded like you said you fireballed it,” Beau says after a long drawn out silence. She moves in his periphery, but he doesn’t look to see where she’s moving to.

“He did!” Nott crows, standing on the bench of the table, “It was crazy, just like the way Caleb casts it, it just shot out and burnt the thing to a crisp!”

Someone settles next to him on the floor and he realizes that it’s Beau, that she’d been coming closer. Again, she doesn’t touch him, but she’s close enough for him to feel the warmth radiating from her, “I don’t know shit about magic, but I didn’t think that was part of your skills.”

His fingers twitch, wanting to do something, pick at his claws, pick at his tusks, he doesn’t know what, but he’s teeming with nervous energy suddenly, “It’s not.”

Jester hums and suddenly claps her hands, “We can worry about that later, once we get our stinky wizard back!”

“You said candles, right?” Yasha asks and Fjord realizes she’s been standing sentinel this entire time, down by Caleb’s feet, her hands braced on the table.

“Yep!”

Yasha nods and steps away from the table suddenly, heading for the stairs.

“I’ll come too,” Nott declares, sparing a glance at Caleb’s form before she climbs down and follows in Yasha’s footsteps.

“You okay here, man? I’m gonna go help the others,” Beau asks and Fjord can see her shifting restlessly.

He nods, “I’ll keep Jester company,” he answers lowly, head tilting as he looks to the tiefling in question, who has taken out her paints. She’s folded the blanket up around Caleb so he’s wrapped up in it, leaving the sides of the table open for her to paint on, she turns a smile up at him briefly before looking back to her art.

Beau nods and stands, but she pauses at the table, touching her fingers to Caleb’s forehead before she carries on.

It’s maybe a minute, maybe five, when Jester glances at him again, “How bad are you hurting?”

He takes stock, curling his toes in his boots, flexing his fingers, “Pretty bad.”

“Do you think it’s because of the pact, because of Caleb?” She asks quietly, dropping her gaze back to the table. Then she glances up quickly again, “Do you think blood pacts with scruffy wizards can beat pacts with really really _really_ old sea snakes?”

Fjord frowns, rolling the thought in his head. He glances to the scar on his palm, “I don’t honestly know anymore.”

“I have tea,” Caduceus comes in with a tray filled with an assortment of mismatched cups and a kettle. He doesn’t seem surprised to just see the two of them in the room as he lowers the tray onto an empty table.

The routine that Caduceus has is very familiar now and Fjord sinks into it, watching as Caduceus prepares tea for them, Jester’s quiet humming fading into the background over the gentle clinks of porcelains and stone and spoons. The scent of it permeates the air before too long.

Yasha is the first to return from upstairs, arms full of candles that she starts setting up around the room, carefully lighting each one as she goes. She pauses by the table, looking at Jester’s art, a tiny smile curling up her lips, “it’s very nice, Jester.” She stops suddenly and looks to Caduceus, “I could use your help with something in the garden. It won’t take long.”

Caduceus places one of the cups next to Jester and turns to him with another in his palm, “Will you be alright?” It’s directed at him and Fjord swallows.

The instinct bubbles up to lie, but he shrugs instead, because he can’t say for sure.

There’s a quiet beat where Caduceus just looks at him, looking for something, before he nods, “I’m going to help Yasha,” he says, leaving something unsaid as he passes Fjord the cup he’d been holding. Fjord isn’t sure what he’s supposed to be hearing, but he wraps his fingers around the cup.

Or tries to.

His hands don’t quite want to cooperate, stiff and hurting like the rest of them. He can’t uncurl his fingers enough, claws digging into his palms.

Caduceus hums, a soft considering sound, and places the cup next to him on the ground. He thinks Caduceus is going to touch him, try to heal him too, but he backs away instead, straightening back out to his full height. “We’ll be right back, Jester,” he says and finally turns away from Fjord, following Yasha to the stairs.

There’s no silence when they leave though, Jester still humming quietly to herself, candle light flickering around the chamber. All of their scents start to permeate the air and Fjord’s nose twitches but no sneeze comes.

Nott returns, Beau just behind her, arms piled with something that Fjord can see from his position.

“I didn’t really know what to get,” Nott says quietly as she comes around the table and climbs up, “But I went into Caleb’s room and found the stuff he uses to summon Frumpkin.” She’s got a bowl and incense and no one stops her as she unwraps the blankets.

Beau comes to stand by Jester, “Nott, what are you doing?” Her arms are also full, what looks like more candles and paper, “Where’s Yasha and Deuces?”

“Nott, that’s so smart! Caleb loves Frumpkin!” Jester says and none of them mention the way her voice wobbles as she puts her paints away. “Yasha wanted his help upstairs. What did you bring?” She’s putting on a good show when she turns to face Beau.

“We have time, right? It takes a while to cast your spell to bring him back?” Nott asks, “I was going to take his coat off and fix it and take his harnesses off. He complains when he falls asleep with it on, says it digs in too tight.”

Fjord works his jaw for a minute, takes several breathes, misses a bit of conversations as he forces his fingers to uncurl, “I can fix his coat,” he finds himself saying before he can stop himself, “While Jester focuses on the ritual, I can stitch it.” 

When he lifts his eyes, all three of the women are staring at him.

He licks his lips, “I’m actually pretty good at it?” He offers and doesn’t add that he feels useless, sitting around doing nothing.

Beau squints at him, “Alright, we got some thread and needles,” she says decisively and steps up to help Nott and Jester. It’s a weird tableau, watching the way the three of them gently manipulate Caleb’s body to remove his coat and then the book harnesses.

Nott removes the books and places one on either side of Caleb, then settles at the end of the table with the harness and what appears to be a small pot. Leather polish, maybe?

“He’s going to be so pissy we took his books,” Jester says, but she’s grinning a little, like the time she’d drawn a dick in his spellbook. “I’m going to draw another dick in this,” she adds, like she’s read his mind, and winks at him over Caleb’s body.

“Only the spellbook,” Beau says.

At the same time Nott says, “Just this one,” pointing at Caleb’s spellbook.

The two of them share a glance, before dissolving into disbelieving laughter. Beau shakes her head and comes over to him with a bundle in her arms, dropping surprisingly gracelessly to his side, “You can sew?” She asks, passing over Caleb’s coat and then a spool of thread with a needle stabbed through the top.

“Yep,” Fjord answers, popping the ‘p’ at her just to see her scowl. He unfolds the coat out, the old tattered thing that Caleb’s had since they met and has staunchly refused to part with. It’s a wonder the thing is still holding together. He’s careful with his claws as he finds the first of what will undoubtedly be many tears, “I think this thing is more repairs than coat,” he adds, trying for conversational.

Everyone else is barreling on, like they’re so certain that Caleb will want to come back to them.

He wishes he had that confidence.

“Can you thread the needle?” Fjord asks Beau, pulling the needle free and unwinding a length of thread. He uses a claw to cut it, offering the thread and needle up in his palm.

She blinks and glances over at him and neither of them mention her glassy eyes, “Yeah, dude,” she says, voice hoarse.

He shifts and presses their shoulders together, even though it causes a roar of pain along his left side.

Beau’s much more adept at needle threading than he ever will, fingers long and slim and dextrous. It only takes her two tries and she even knots the end of the thread for him.

They work like that quietly for some time, Fjord’s not even sure how much time. He stitches and she threads the needle and eventually there’s no tears left to fix. He holds it up to observe his work and Beau nods next to him, “Not bad, man, now it just needs to be washed.”

“I’ll do it!” Nott declares and Fjord hears the skittering over her feet on the floor before she comes into view. Caleb’s book harness is over her shoulder, the leather gently gleaming in the candle light. She critiques his work before she takes the coat from him with a satisfied nod, “Passable.”

He and Beau snort at the same time.

Nott squints at them then turns her nose up as she rushes off into the kitchen.

Beau snorts again, then sags against his side, “How’d you learn to sew?”

“Didn’t have anyone else to mend my clothes, didn’t have money to buy more clothes,” he says quietly, opening and closing his fist a few times. He still owes Caleb a story. Hells, he owes Caleb a lot more than that.

Beau doesn’t say anything and the two of them sit in silence, watching Jester doodle in Caleb’s spellbook, until she glances up at them, “Don’t worry, I added plain paper,” she says quietly, then dips her attention down again. Fjord hadn’t even thought about the paper thing, but Beau makes an accepting noise next to him, so he guesses she’d been making a face about it.

“Do you think he’ll come back?” He asks, soft enough that he hopes Jester doesn’t hear.

“I think we can convince him,” Beau answers and he hopes she’s right.

Nott comes back from the kitchen without Caleb’s coat and harness, “They’re both drying. Is it almost time, Jessie?”

Jester closes Caleb’s book and sets her pen to the side, “We’ll wait for Yasha and Caduceus,” she says, voice carefully neutral as she hauls herself to sit next to Caleb’s body on the table.

“Should we all come over there?” Beau is the one to ask, though he’d been thinking it too.

“I think it’d help,” Caduceus says, coming through the door. His hands are empty, though Fjord thinks he can see some dirt on them.

Yasha steps out from around him and she’s got flowers in her arms, “Nott, do you want to -” 

“Oh, Yasha,” Jester gushes, before Nott can even finish and shoves herself off the table to go envelope Yasha in a massive hug. For her part, Yasha accepts it, arms lifting up to keep the flowers from getting crushed. When Jester pulls away, her face is damp but she wipes it off with her hands and bounces back to the table.

“I’d love to help you,” Nott says, quiet where she’s perched by Caleb’s head. Fjord thinks she’d already been brushing Caleb’s hair out with her claws, that or just petting his head. “Flowers are good luck,” she adds seriously and they all fall quiet.

Beau levers herself up off his side, pushing off of his shoulder, shooting him an apologetic look when he hisses through his teeth, “Sorry.”

He waves her off and it takes a little more effort for him to get himself up, but he does it, joints stiff, body still on fire as he walks to the table. There’s only one spot left, after they’ve all piled in, at Caleb’s side, near his left hand. Fjord sits sideways, straddling the bench, and doesn’t look at anyone as he takes Caleb’s hand.

Their scarred palms line up and the pain doesn’t abate.

Jester takes a deep breath, up on her knees on the bench on Caleb’s otherside, “I’m going to start. It’s a process, a ritual, it will take time,” she explains slowly, looking very very young as she places her palm over the diamond on Caleb’s chest.

“Talking to him will help,” Caduceus says suddenly, at Caleb’s feet, “It’s a bit like coaxing a scared cat out of a corner,” he says, seemingly proud of himself for that analogy, especially when Beau snickers.

Jester offers him a watery smile before she turns back to Caleb and she’s got her symbol of the Traveler in her other palm now. It starts to glow, dull at first, then brighter, like it’s sucking all the light from the candles. The light seems to travel through Jester to the diamond under her palm.

The diamond shatters suddenly.

It’s like they’re all in the middle of a starfield, tiny flecks of diamond suspended in the air around them, reflecting candle light around the room.

“Whoa,” Beau says quietly.

Jester giggles softly, suddenly, and then she leans over Caleb a little, to look at his face, “You’re my favorite stinky wizard,” she says quietly, to his slack face, “I promise I won’t make fun of your smell anymore.” She takes a great breath shuddery in her chest, “And you don’t really owe me another diamond, as long as you come back. We need you here, Caleb, you’re very important to all of us.”

She’s quiet for a pause.

“Also I drew a whole bunch of dicks in your spellbook and it’s no fun if you aren’t here to make judgy eyebrows about it!” Then she sits back with a satisfied nod and looks over the rest of them. Her face is wet again. “Who’s next?”

Nott is still weaving flowers into Caleb’s hair, braiding little sections of it around the stems, “I will.”

Fjord grips the bench under him tightly, claws pressing into the wood so he doesn’t end up squeezing Caleb’s hand too tightly.

She doesn’t say anything until she’s done, patting Caleb’s head a few times once she’s finished, like he’s seen her do dozens of times over the months. “You were the first person to accept me like this,” she says quietly and Fjord angles himself away, to give a sense of privacy, notices Beau doing the same out of the corner of his eye.

“You’re my boy and I promised to help you, but I can’t keep that promise if you aren’t here,” her voice wobbles off and there’s a lot of sniffling, not all of it from Nott. “I love you, Caleb, and I know you think you don’t deserve it, that you don’t deserve to be happy, but you do,” her voice picks up, protective fierceness weling to the surface, “You do deserve to be happy, to have a good life, and you can’t let go of your chance for it now. Not this close.”

No one says anything for what feels like eons.

Fjord sees Beau turn on the spot and keeps himself angled away. 

“Look, man,” Beau starts and Fjord doesn’t think he’s the only one having to stifle a laugh at how perturbed she sounds. “Neither one of us is good at this sappy, emotion things, but you brought this on yourself, no running away from this conversation,” she hiccups and Fjord turns just enough to bump his knee against hers.

There’s a lull of nothing but sniffling, and Fjord nearly jumps out of his skin when Beau’s hand clamps down on his knee, grip tight, and it borders on excruciating, but he lets it happen.

“You’re my brother, Caleb,” she says, voice so low, “Empire kids gotta stick together. You can’t leave me to deal with this shit on my own.”

She clears her throat and squeezes his knee hard, before releasing him, “Someone else go before I start snotting everywhere.”

Fjord snorts and Jester giggles from across the table.

When he lifts his gaze, the pieces of diamond are still hanging in the air, casting beams of light and rainbows on the walls. He watches Jester nudge a small fragment and it floats through the air in his direction, causing him to cross his eyes when it bumps of his nose.

Jester giggles again and he offers her a small grin, as much as he can manage.

Yasha stands suddenly and no one says anything, quietly waiting. She edges around the table and stops at Caleb’s head, none of them have the decency to pretend they aren’t watching to see what she does. “There’s nothing you’ve done that’s so terrible that you can’t come back from it,” she says quietly and drops a kiss to his forehead.

It’s quiet as she returns to her place and sits.

Fjord glances up and meets Caduceus’s eye, holding the contact briefly. Words are caught in his throat, and he knows he needs to say something, knows he can’t just let it be, let himself be the only one not to talk to Caleb, but he has no idea what to say.

Caduceus nods at him, a small smile curling on his lips, before he looks to Caleb. One of his wide palms lays over Caleb’s calf, “We’ve had a lot of talks about destiny, Mr. Caleb, and I know you haven’t risen to yours yet,” he says, voice a smooth rumble, comforting, “And I think you’re starting to realize that for yourself. I know it’s scary, but you can’t run from it. There’s so many great things to come.”

“We are your destiny, Caleb Widogast,” Beau intones seriously and Caduceus laughs softly.

“Indeed, we are,” Caduceus agrees.

Quiet settles, broken up by sniffling.

Jester kicks him under the table and Fjord lifts his gaze to her, “We’re almost out of time, Fjord,” she tells him, pensive, eyes shining, “If you’re going to...”

He nods and she goes quiet.

Adjusting his grip on Caleb’s hand, Fjord looks to his face, still slack, like he’s sleeping and not... he clears his throat. “Our family needs you, Caleb,” he says quietly, the words feeling like they scrape their way out of his throat, “I need you,” he adds, quieter, ducking his head to press his lips to Caleb’s knuckles.

Jester makes a strangled sound across the table and when he lifts his head back up, she’s got more tears on her face, but her smile is big.

Beau jabs him hard in the side and he blows out the breath he hadn’t been aware he’d been holding.

“Is that it?” Nott asks and she’s shifted around again, has Caleb’s head pillowed in her lap now, “Did we do it?”

Jester hums, tilting her head back and forth from side to side and closes her eyes briefly. She has her Traveler symbol in her hand again and she twists it in her hand over and over and over. The glow of magic fills it again and the diamond pieces in the air start moving, like they’re dancing through the air.

Then all at once, they coalesce, flying straight to Caleb’s body, seemingly into it.

Beau grabs his free hand, her knuckles white with her grip, and Fjord holds his breath again.

Time slows or speeds up or doesn’t move at all, Fjord has no concept of it while they wait to see what happens.

And then Caleb gasps, lurching on the table.

Jester is the first to react, pressing him back down with her palms flat on his chest, “Wait, wait, Caleb, don’t try to move!” There’s sweat on her temples.

Fjord breathes out heavily and Beau releases his hand.

The pain he’d been feeling is gone and his face is damp, so he scrubs the back of his newly freed hand over his cheeks. He doesn’t let go of Caleb’s hand though.

“Was?” Caleb croaks out and when Fjord finally lifts his eyes, Caleb is sitting up now, leaning against Jester.

“You died, mother fucker,” Beau says and doesn’t bother trying to hide it as she swipes forcefully at her eyes, “Thank Jester for bringing you back.”

Nott scrambles around and Fjord almost takes an elbow to the eye socket while she works her way into Caleb’s lap, pressing her cheek to his chest, “Don’t scare me like that again!”

Caleb doesn’t try to pull his hand from Fjord, instead brings up his free hand to cup the back of her head, “I am sorry, schatz,” he says quietly and his hand in Fjord’s squeezes gently, “What happened to the creature? Is everyone else okay?”

“We’re fine, Mr. Caleb, don’t worry about that right now,” Caduceus says, gently clapping Caleb on the leg, “You’ll need plenty of rest after that.”

“Oh, right, coming back from the dead can take a lot out of you,” Jester says sagely, poking Caleb’s cheek, “A few days of rest and you’ll be good as new! Dr. Jester’s orders!” She beams at him.

Beau snorts, “I know that’s like a foreign concept to you, but I will tie you to the bed if I have to -” Jester opens her mouth “- nope! That was not supposed to be kinky, gross, Jessie.” Then she pushes up off the bench, “Come on, lets move him off the table, we eat on this thing.”

Fjord doesn’t want to let him go but he forces himself to, standing up from the table and making room.

Yasha and Jester work together to get him off the table, supporting him between them, “Upstairs?” Yasha asks.

There’s a beat.

“Absolutely!” Nott bursts suddenly, “We’re not letting him sleep down here by himself!”

No one bothers arguing and the group of them shuffle up the stairs, Yasha and Jester practically carrying Caleb up the stairs. He doesn’t even try to argue with them and Fjord smiles as he trails behind them all.

And then they get to the top of their stairs and everyone stops.

“What’s the hold up?” Fjord asks, stuck one step down from the top while everyone shuffles awkwardly above him.

“Where’s Caleb going to stay?” Jester asks from the front where he can’t see anything of her but her tail swaying low around everyone’s legs. “No, don’t you even start, Caleb, we’re not letting you sleep on the floor or by yourself or whatever nonsense you were about to say!”

Beau snickers ahead of him and Fjord bumps her knuckles when she holds her fist up.

“He could stay with me,” Fjord finds himself saying, once Beau has turned back to face forward. He resolutely doesn’t look at her as he shoves up onto the landing, causing the group to finally move the rest of the way onto the floor properly, “I’ve got space.”

Then, tacks on as soon as it occurs to him, “It wouldn’t be an inconvenience or an invasion of personal space or whatever sort of shit you’re coming up with, Cay.” He can’t even see Caleb’s face yet, but just picturing his perturbed expression is worth it.

Jester turns towards him and beams at him, bringing Caleb around with her like he’s nothing but a rag doll in her arms.

Caleb’s brows draw together and he looks so put upon that Fjord has to turn his head to stifle his laugh, “I was actually going to say ‘thank you’, Fjord,” he says, voice still low, like he hasn’t regained his full volume.

Fjord blinks, rubs a hand over the back of his head then nods, “Okay, well, then,” he steps to his own door so he doesn’t have to see anyone else’s reactions and presses his palm flat to the wood. He uses his other hand to actually turn the knob, suddenly very off kilter.

It’s dark in the space so he shuffles in to light some candles, listening as Jester starts chattering on about how dreary his room is and how she could liven it up with some color.

When he finally looks, Caleb’s on the edge of his bed and Jester is inspecting the wall that connects to her room with Beau. She keeps holding her hands up in the shapes of l’s, moving them this way and that. He sighs, “Jessie, I really don’t need a mural.”

She harrumphs at him, “Fine, I didn’t want to make your room beautiful anyways,” and then she yawns.

“Alright, why don’t we all get some rest?” Caduceus is standing outside of the room, but peering in, eyes on Caleb, “Mr. Fjord can keep an eye on Mr. Caleb for the night and let him get some much needed rest and the rest of us can get some shut eye.” He turns to Nott, “That includes you.”

“But—“

“Nott,” Caleb says gently, “I will be doing nothing but sleeping for the foreseeable future. I’m certain Fjord will alert you if that changes, ja? Bitte, get some rest.”

She sags but nods, then points a finger at Fjord, “You better tell me if something happens.”

Fjord gently corrals Jester out the door towards Beau, “I will let everyone know if anything happens. Promise.” And then shuts the door in all of their faces.

There’s several loud protests from the other side of the wood, but when he turns back, Caleb is smiling. He’s also listing severely to one side so Fjord hurries over and helps him back onto the bed towards the wall.

“Do you need anything?” He asks softly, unconsciously brushing Caleb’s hair back from his face. When he realizes, he moves his hand away and fusses with the blankets, pulling them up over Caleb’s body.

Caleb’s eyes have gone a little unfocused and he’s clearly having trouble staying awake, but he reaches out with a hand and grabs Fjord’s wrist. It’s a weak grasp. “Fjord, tell me what happened to the creature.”

Swallowing, Fjord sinks to sit on the bed next to Caleb, making no moves to pull out of his hold, “I burned it to a crisp,” he answers, hoping Caleb is too drowsy to pick up on the significance of that. If there were ever a time for Caleb’s big brain to fail him, this should be it.

No such luck, because Caleb blinks once, twice, and then a slower third, before his head suddenly lifts, “Come again?”

Fjord sighs and shifts around, tucking himself half under the blankets as well, propping up against some of the pillows. Once he’s done this, he realizes his boots are still on and busies himself with removing them to buy himself some time.

It works until Caleb pinches the outside of his thigh with an impatient, “Fjord.”

Rubbing his leg, he resituates under the blankets, boot free, “When you went down, I cut into the thing, but it wasn’t enough and I kept thinking ‘man, one of Caleb’s fireballs would sure be useful right about now’. And when I went to throw out an Eldritch Blast, a fireball happened.”

Caleb tries to sit up but Fjord reaches out and it takes very little pressure to get him back to the pillows, “Fjord,” Caleb protests, but doesn’t try to sit up. He does however, take Fjord’s hand, turning it over to trace the scar on his palm, and says again, “Fjord.”

“Is that all you got in that big brain of yours?” Fjord asks, aiming for light and coming out maybe a little concerned.

“Mhm,” Caleb replies then snorts and shakes his head, lacing his fingers around Fjord’s, “Blood magic is serious,” he says, tone different, like he’s repeating something he’s heard before. “I will have to look into this when I’m...”

Fjord breathes out shakily and squeezes his hand, “You died, Caleb.”

There’s no response for a while and Fjord thinks he’s fallen asleep, but eventually, Caleb squeezes his hand back, “I heard you, you know. All of you, trying to bring me back.”

“Oh,” he says, very quiet.

Gentle fingers touch his chin, so he lifts his gaze, meets Caleb’s eyes, very bright and very blue in the flickering candle light, “This family needs you as well, you know?” And then much softer, he adds, “And so do I.”

Fjord shudders out a huge breath, “I’m glad you’re back,” he says, for a lack of anything else. Then he brings Caleb’s hand up and kisses his knuckles gently.

Caleb’s smile is barely there and he’s so very close to sleep, clinging on by a thread, “I am too.”

“Get some rest, Caleb,” he urges gently.

“You’ll stay?”

He nods, thumbing over Caleb’s knuckles, their linked fingers resting on the blankets between them, “Of course,” and then reaches over to snuff out the candle with his finger tips.

**Author's Note:**

> find me on twitter and tumblr.


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